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As the pink evening sky turns into navy blue night, a cozy home becomes the homefront of a battlefield.

When her eyes close, the nightmare begins, the boogie man arises again with 2 horns, blood red eyes, a machete tipped tail and razor blade claws that are constricting the bottle that contains the last drop of his vodka.

He grabs her from her shelterd bed and drags her to a dungeon hell which she has recently come to know so well.

Clawing her clothes off thread by thread, this undeveloped angel is being stripped of her wings.

Minutes turn into hours, hours into days, days turn into eternities for this girl who has been threatened to be killed if she screams for help.

Finally after the punching, choking and
and skin crawling sexual slurs the slaughter of this girls innocence has ended and the beast returns back beneath the bed to his bottomless pit.

She awakes, heart pounding body sweating and emotionally exhausted.

She tells her mother about the dreams she's been having and her mother says "don't worry they'll stop soon" as she knocks back her hourly dosages of Lexapro and Prozac with a fine hardened glass of Scotch.

The girl says “but mom”, but her mother interupts "go to bed, nothing is wrong with you, you’re just having nightmares, go to sleep".

As the navy blue night sky turns into dusk orange sleeping beauty returns to her cherry color stained bed, with hopes that the boogie man won't return again.

Recieving only neglect and no comfort from the women who gave birth to her
She sees only one way to escape the beast that attacks her at night.

The Lexapro & Prozac pills her mother left on the bathroom counter.
She takes 3 of each and drifts off into an eternal sleep.

Now, months later with my angel wings fully developed I watch down as my mother wakes up from these same nightmares.

It appears after taking one soul the boogie man is after another, she has endangered herself by refusing to chase down her own demons.

She endangered her daughter by not recognizing the demon that she slept next to, now she must deal with them both alone.

The battle is over but the war has just begun.

A note tucked in between an inflorescence of violet Chinese Wisteria and marble stone says "I'm sorry, I was too late".
The marble stone reads.....
"Hailey May 3, 2003-July 11, 2011".
I was 8 years old.
Written by Carringten_Genesis
Author's Note
This poem is not an experience that I had personally, but rather a look into the heart of addiction and how it effects the daily lives of ourselves and the ones we love.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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